Haunted
by brokenmoonlight
Summary: Howard had been oblivious because Vince had never, ever wanted him to know. But he should have known he couldn't hide his past forever.
1. When Past and Present Collide

**A/N: Right, this is going to be in two parts. Sorry part one is a bit short, but part two will be longer. I just felt like It had come to a good stopping point, and that I could play at being a juicy dangler! Seriously though, this story is not very nice, and that will come across even more in the next chapter. I'm a bit worried about it because, without giving too much away, it's quite a sensitive subject and I don't want to offend anyone who may have been through something similar or known someone who has. I hope I do it justice!**

**Disclaimer: You know the drill. Not mine. Sadly.**

**xxxx**

It was a shame, really, that even on such a perfectly glorious day, something could go wrong. It didn't seem natural, with the sun high in the cornflower blue sky and the heat rising from the ground in wavy wisps, that things could be anything less than perfect. Vince was the epitome of long, hot summer days. Bright, cheerful and deliciously tempting, he made even the greyest days sunny and the sunny days even sunnier. Today, however, was going to be completely different. Vince had known it as soon as he'd seen Them strolling through Portobello Road Market, and Howard had known it when Vince had come home with a face paler than any goth's, and eyes shining brighter than any diamond, which would have actually been quite a beautiful sight to behold, if it weren't for the fact that his eyes were shining from unshed tears and not because he'd just bought the most genius pair of boots.

Howard was half collapsed on the counter when Vince came in, the door wide open with the hope that even the slightest breeze would provide the Maverick with some relief from the stifling shop – except that there was no breeze, and this was being made worse by the fact that the rickety old fan in the corner was serving no purpose but to blow hot air around and around, ruffling Howard's hair and making it even more limp than it already was all at the same time. He looked up tiredly when his friend walked in, noting immediately that something was wrong by the way Vince said nothing as he tried to unsuccessfully slip passed unnoticed. Vince was **always **noticeable. Howard caught a glimpse of his face, and the sight of it left him reeling.

"Vince?"

But Vince ignored him, turning into the hall and up the stairs.

Completely baffled by his behaviour and trying to work out if he'd inadvertently done anything to upset him, Howard quickly shut the door, locked it, and then all but ran after Vince, taking the stairs two at a time and reaching the top just as the bedroom door slammed shut. The dark cloud filling the flat made Howard shiver, despite the heat, and he cautiously made his way toward the bedroom, hand resting gently on the handle. He gave the door a soft rap with his other hand.

"Vince?"

A muffled sound came floating through the old wood, one which Howard couldn't make out, but he took it as permission to enter, and then, upon pushing the handle down and finding the door locked, realised that it hadn't meant that at all.

Howard called out a little louder, and jiggled the handle to make his point. "Vince – please let me in. I just want to make sure you're okay. I'm not leaving until you open the door."

More muffled noises, and this time Howard could make out the unmistakable sounds of someone sobbing. It wasn't normal sobbing though. It was angry and frustrated and scared, and Howard's eyes widened as he not only realised that this was the first time he'd ever known Vince to cry – **really **cry – but also because he had no clue as to what could have made someone like Vince, who was made from candy-floss and glitter, so upset. And it frightened him, because in order for Vince to act like he was now, something huge must have happened. For a second, Howard wondered if Topshop had just announced its closure, or if Mick Jagger had found God and was training to become a priest. He then berated himself for thinking such things, because even Vince, as shallow as he undoubtedly was at times, wouldn't overreact this much. Assertiveness was the key, he decided, and he prayed Vince would take his tone of voice seriously.

"C'mon, little man. Open the door, or I'll force it open. Your choice."

A few more seconds, and then a small thud followed by footsteps sounded, and Howard let go of the handle as the key was turned the other side and the door pulled slightly ajar. As he carefully walked through, honestly afraid of what he would find, Howard caught sight of Vince bundling himself into his duvet, face pressed firmly into his pillow as his whole body shook. Something in Howard's brain prodded him sharply, and he was at his friend's side in less than a second, perching on the edge of the bed, his hands on Vince's shoulders. Vince jumped violently at the contact and tried to bury himself even more, his breath coming short and fast, his skin flushed and burning. He was mumbling to himself, and Howard had to strain to hear the words.

"I didn't deserve it I didn't deserve it I didn't deserve it I didn't deserve it..."

Howard frowned and forced the duvet away from Vince's head, and then wished he hadn't, as he caught sight of Vince's hands twisting harshly in his precious hair, pulling at it until the long, silky strands were torn out, twisting and pulling and twisting and pulling over and over again, mantra falling from his lips and eyes screwed tightly shut. Howard grabbed Vince's arms and pulled him upright. Vince kept his eyes closed, tears leaking from the corners, his body rocking backwards and forwards, sobs becoming harsher, and he stopped mumbling and instead made strangled sounds like he was hyperventilating. All the while, Howard, who was completely terrified, whispered words of comfort to him, but they fell on deaf ears. It was when he rubbed a hand up and down Vince's back that Howard felt his heart break, as his friend tensed and said;

"'M s-sorry. P-please stop. 'M sorry, 'm sorry."

Vince, who seemed to have forgotten that Howard was there at all, pushed his hands into his hair and started pulling again. Howard grabbed them and moved them away from his head, but Vince refused to be reached.

"Vince, stop it. Please."

Howard's voice trembled, and he realised he was crying. He was at a complete loss as to what to do. Did he call a doctor? Ring for an ambulance? It was as though Vince had gone into some sort of trance and, afraid he was going to pass out from lack of air, Howard put his hands on the smaller man's face, feeling the skin practically vibrating underneath his fingers, his pulse racing, and tried in vain to get through to him.

"Vince – Vince it's Howard. I'm not going to hurt you, just please look at me. You have to calm down, okay? You have to calm down. Breath for me, please. Just... breath."

Somehow, after a few seconds - although to Howard it seemed like a lifetime - Vince eventually started to calm. Howard bit down on his lip to try and stop his tears, his body shaking as much as Vince's as he watched him intently. And then came the sweetest sound Howard had ever heard – sweeter than even the sweetest jazz melody.

"Howard?"

It was just a whisper, but it was enough.

"I'm right here, little man."

Finally, Vince slowly opened his swollen eyes. "Howard!" He weakly pushed his body into Howard's arms, collapsing against him and clutching at his shirt.

"It's all right, Vince, it's okay – I've got you. You're safe." Howard hugged Vince tightly to him and automatically rocked him back and forth, soothing him like he was a small child. After a few minutes, Vince managed to regain some control over himself and he pulled back, his face a mixture of embarrassment and guilt, his hair sticking to his wet cheeks. He looked so lost and broken, and Howard didn't even want to begin to imagine what had caused all that pain. The very thought made him feel sick. Even so...

"Vince, what the hell happened?"

Something seemed to click in Vince then, and he stood up so quickly that he almost fell over. Howard caught him, but Vince struggled away, hands pushing his hair back out of his face and wiping under his eyes, legs wobbling like a new born deer's as he tried to cross the room. He nearly made it, until a pair of strong arms reached out and held him firmly, spinning him round on the spot so he was face to face with his rather frightened looking friend, and he quickly averted his gaze to the floor.

Howard let go of one of Vince's arms and moved his hand up to cup his cheek.

"Look at me."

But Vince wouldn't budge, eyes still staring downward.

"Vince. Vince!" Howard gave him a gentle shake. "Please talk to me – you're scaring me."

Vince's head swayed slightly and he lifted his face, his eyes red and puffy. He looked at Howard, and a smile broke out on his face.

Howard frowned. "Vince?"

"I'm hungry. Let's get some dinner."


	2. The Truth

**A/N: Part two! Very angsty, I'm afraid, but hopefully I've given it a good enough ending for there to be a light at the end of the tunnel. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed!**

**xxxx**

Howard and Vince sat eating dinner in silence. Well, maybe 'eating' wasn't the appropriate term to use, because neither of them were really doing that at all. Howard absent mindedly pushed his food round his plate with his fork, watching Vince with such intensity that he was suddenly afraid he'd burn a hole through him. Vince, on the other hand, had long since pushed his still full plate away from him, and was staring into the middle distance, his eyes glazed and hollow, and it made Howard want to cry again, because Vince was the last person he would have expected to look so empty.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, Howard put his fork down and cleared his throat.

"You finished, little man?"

Vince nodded, but continued to stare at the opposite wall, shivers wracking his body every now and then, hands clenched together almost painfully. Howard couldn't bear it, and he moved round the table to kneel in front of Vince, his hands pulling the smaller man's apart and gripping them gently. He could feel Vince trembling, the vibrations running up his arms and over his shoulders, and he knew, somehow, that this was going to be the longest night of his life. Vince might end up hating him for it, but Howard **had **to find out what was wrong – not to satisfy his own curiosity, but for the sake of Vince's mental health. Whatever had happened – it was certainly bad enough that it wasn't a good idea to keep it bottled up.

"Vince?" Howard spoke softly, and ran his thumb over Vince's chin.

A small noise, a tiny squeak, got caught in Vince's throat, and Howard moved his hand away when he felt him tense.

"Hey, come on little man. You know I'm not going to hurt you, don't you?"

Vince blinked blearily and slowly licked his dry lips, eventually moving his gaze to look at Howard. He muttered something under his breath, but Howard couldn't make out what it was.

"What?"

"I said 'I know'."

And Howard only barely heard that, because Vince didn't seem to be able to get his voice above a whisper. He stood, and took hold of Vince's hand, tugging gently.

"Come on, let's go sit somewhere more comfortable, yeah?"

Vince hesitated for a moment, then resigned and let himself be pulled up, shuffling along behind Howard and then hesitating again when the bigger man sat down on the sofa.

"Aren't you going to sit?" Howard said gently, trying to capture Vince's eyes with his own.

Vince did, but he held himself stiffly and reached for the remote. "Shall we watch telly?" He switched it on, but Howard quickly relived him of the remote and switched it back off.

"Vince -"

"Howard, please don't."

Well, that was a start.

Howard shook his head. "We need to talk about this."

"No, we don't."

"Vince – we do."

"We don't!"

Vince made to move, but Howard grabbed hold of his arm.

Vince's head was spinning and he felt sick. He couldn't tell Howard. He wasn't supposed too – he wasn't supposed to tell anyone. Tears pricked at his eyes again, and he felt his chest tighten uncomfortably. He coughed, the hacking becoming stuck in his throat and making him choke. He could feel Howard rubbing a hand over his back, but even so, he couldn't tell him. He wasn't allowed too. Because if he did... but then,** they **weren't here anymore, were they? Would **they** know? How would they know? And was it just **them**? Or was it because he knew what it would do to Howard if he knew, how it would make him feel to know he wasn't there to stop it, even though that was hardly his fault, because he wasn't even in Vince's life at the time, but even so. But then he remembered the last time he'd tried to tell someone, all those years ago, and **they** had found out, and he'd been punished accordingly, and even though it had hurt, it had also felt morbidly liberating, because he'd deserved it, hadn't he?

Yes, he'd deserved it.

But he hadn't.

Had he?

Vince sobbed and clutched at Howard's hands. "I'm-Im not supposed too."

"Why?" said Howard, who had been watching Vince's face nervously as the smaller man struggled with his thoughts.

"Be-because no one will believe me a-and I'll get into trouble for it again. I'll d-deserve it, though. I did last time."

Howard's small eyes widened in shock. Vince sounded like a terrified child, and his brain started to piece together what little information he had – and it didn't like what it patched up. He shifted position so he was turned more toward Vince, and he tenderly cupped his friend's face, rubbing his thumbs under his flooded eyes. It took Howard a few seconds to pluck up the courage to ask, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as his voice got stuck in his throat, until, finally;

"Vince, did something happen to you when you were a child? Did someone hurt you?"

As soon as the words were out, Vince started to shake violently, tears flowing like a burst damn and breath coming in short gasps.

Howard hated himself.

"Hey, hey – shhh. Come on, it's okay, it's all right. I've got you, you're safe. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise." He pulled Vince tightly to him, trying to stop the small form in his arms from shaking so fiercely.

Vince let out a devastated, strangled sound which was a cross between a sob and a scream, and began to mumble incoherently against Howard's shoulder. Howard tried to pull him away a little, but Vince wouldn't budge, he just cried harder, hands digging into Howard's back as he locked himself to him.

If this was a film, Howard thought, there'd be an explanation followed by a Hollywood happy ending, but as much as he wished that that was how it would be, he knew, that no matter what Vince told him, it would take more than just a couple of hours on the silver screen to get through it. He shuddered as a heavy blackness descended over the room, the light being swallowed and the heat distinguished, replaced by a creeping iciness and the smell of fear. It was sucking out Vince's soul, and Howard was determined not to let him fall completely into the darkness. He felt sick and angry at the little he already knew, and the thought of what was to come terrified him, but Vince was never going to deal with it if he kept it to himself. Howard finally managed to prise Vince away from him enough to gaze down at his face, and he placed a small kiss against Vince's forehead.

"H-Howard..."

Howard stroked Vince's face comfortingly, wiping away the tears and smudged eyeliner that was smeared down his sharp cheeks.

"I'm here," he whispered, soothingly.

"I-I s-saw **them **a-at P-port..." Vince hiccupped and cried into his hands, taking in huge gasps of air as he trembled. Howard felt awful doing it, but he took Vince's hands and pulled them away from his face.

"It's all right, sweetheart, just take your time." The endearment had just slipped out, but Howard didn't care. What mattered was that Vince felt safe and loved, and he would do absolutely anything to make sure that happened.

Vince coughed and breathed deeply. "I-I was at the market, a-and **they **were just walkin' along, l-like they were all normal and, and..."

Vince's head fell forward, and for a moment Howard thought he was going to be sick.

"I'm not supposed to tell you," Vince whispered, his face full of shame, eyes wide and frightened.

"Vince, no one is going to know you've told me anything. I'm not going to tell anyone, I promise."

"I don't want you to hate me – I couldn't bear it."

Howard rubbed Vince's arms and tried to smile at him. "I could never."

"Your parents love you, don't they Howard?"

Howard nodded, his mouth suddenly dry at the thought of where this was going.

"M-mine didn't love me."

"Vince..."

But Vince pulled away from Howard and stood up. He paced about for a few seconds, hands pulling on the hem of his top, trying to stretch it further than the material allowed.

"I t-tried, I really did. My-my mum told me I was a mistake, th-that I wasn't supposed to have been born. I-I had an older brother, see, but he died just before my mum found out she was expectin' me. She said that I'd pushed him out to make room for myself. You see, he was perfect, and then when he was five he drowned. I didn't mean to kill 'im, I didn't even know. If I'd known, I wouldn't have come along, w-wouldn't have made my parents so angry."

Howard blinked in shock. Had he just heard right? Did Vince honestly believe that he any control over being conceived? That he'd really caused his brother's death?

"Vince -"

But Vince put a hand out to stop him from talking, and continued to pace the room.

"S-so they punished me. I mean, I deserved it, right? It wasn't so much dad – he'd just mostly ignore me or sometimes call me names if I got in his way. Mum, though, sh-she would hit me if I got something wrong, or if I did or asked for something I wasn't supposed to, or if I complained that I was hungry before dinner time - and you would have thought I'd have learned something from that because whenever I did she would never give me my dinner, but it didn't stop me from doing it again. I stayed out too late once, and when I came home she beat me until I was bleeding everywhere and I had to go to hospital, and I got punished for that too, because she'd had to waste time lying to them about what had happened, and they said I had internal bleeding, but when I was able to go home, mum just screamed at me and told me how useless I was and how I deserved it because little boys who kill their brothers have to be taught a lesson. And she was right, because I did. And she'd always pull at my hair, always, always dragging me about by it and breakin' it and even just choppin' at it so it went all odd. And then, and then one day when I was nine I got taken away and put into care, because mum had lost her temper with me in public and someone saw, but it was so awful there and the other children were really horrible and then that's when I met Bryan Ferry. I didn't mean to lie about that, by the way, but it was just so much easier to say I'd been mostly raised by him rather than have to talk about my parents, but even when I did meet him I only stayed with him occasionally 'cause I was put with a foster family - the same one I was with when I met you – and then I didn't really see him again and I never ever told him about what had happened even though he sort of knew because of what the social worker had told him but I never discussed it with him but he would still try sometimes and tell me it wasn't my fault and that I didn't deserve it at all and that I had to keep telling myself that and then a couple of years later I met you and and..." Vince had to stop then, because he was hyperventilating again, bent double as he tried to breath. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and his hands went to his hair yet again and started yanking at the now dull strands.

Howard jumped up and tried to stop him.

"No, no, no! Let go of me, I have too I have too!"

Howard grabbed at him, which was hard when his limbs were trembling and his eyes were blurred with tears. He was angry – **so** angry – but he couldn't show that in front of Vince, because then Vince would think he was angry at **him**. He firmly took hold of Vince's wrists and made him release his hair.

"No! Howard, I have too!"

"No, you don't! You don't you don't you don't! Vince, look at me... **look **at me!"

Vince covered his face with his hands and sat down cross-legged on the floor, pulling Howard, who was still attached to him, with him.

"I can't!" he sobbed, rocking back and forth and trying to catch his breath.

Howard pulled Vince into his lap and held him as close as he could, his chin resting on the top of Vince's head, his tears falling into the tortured raven hair.

"Vince – do you trust me?"

Vince couldn't talk, so he nodded against him.

"Right. Well, you listen to me now. You were an innocent child, okay? No one can have any control over being born. **You** didn't make you, your **parents **made you. I am so, so sorry about your brother, but as much as you think you... as much as your, your – **mother** (and he said the word with such disdain that Vince shivered beneath him) told you otherwise, you did **not **kill him. My God, Vince – no parent deserves to lose a child; but however devastating that was, what they did to you was inexcusable. How could you have possibly known about your brother? How could **you**, as a **baby**, possibly have **any** control over his death? Your parents took it out on you because they were angry, and that is disgusting –** they** are disgusting - because you didn't deserve that – d'you hear me, Vince? You didn't deserve it. Your mum and dad were supposed to love you no matter what. They were supposed to protect you and care for you and make sure you were happy and -" Howard choked and sobbed into Vince's hair, the man himself gulping back waves of tears and clinging to Howard for dear life. "I **hate** them for what they've done to you – I'm so sorry."

"B-but don't you see, Howard? Th-that's why I'm the w-way I am. I'm-I'm horrible to you because I was born to be a h-horrible person. My h-hair and my c-clothes... I'm supposed to be vain a-and lead p-people on because that's how I was m-made. I w-want to be a n-nice p-person so much, but I-I'm not supposed to be. My m-mum told me I was h-horrible, so I am. I h-have to be because I d-don't deserve to b-be nice."

Howard couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Vince – I'm not gonna lie to you, you have your moments, but you **are** a niceperson. And not only that, but you're a **good **person too. If you were really that bad, d'you think I'd still be here? Honestly?"

"But -"

"No. Now, you said you trusted me, and you can't take that back. I won't let you. Everything I just told you is the truth and everything your parents told you is a lie. Your foster parents were nice, right?"

"Yes."

"Then you know that that's not how they were supposed to be. And Vince, I wouldn't change who you are for the world. You're my best friend. You complete me. Two sides of a coin, remember? You and me – always."

Vince moved his arms up to encircle Howard's neck and finally looked at him. The tragedy of what he saw made Howard choke.

"Oh, Vince."

"I'm sorry I made you cry."

Howard sniffed and smiled at him sadly. "Don't be."

"Did you really mean what you said? **All** of it? Even the bit where you said I complete you?"

"Of course, little man. I wouldn't lie about that. Now, there is something I'm going to need you to do, and you have to promise me you'll do it, because it'll really help you. So, do you promise?"

Vince tried to give Howard a weak smile, but it was more or less hidden by the state of his face – his blotchy cheeks, his red, swollen eyes and damp skin, so un-Vince and so, completely devastating.

"I promise."

"Good. We're going to get you some help, okay? Tomorrow, we'll find someone to talk to and help you work through this. And we'll do it together – I won't leave you."

But Vince baulked at this, and once again tried to twist out of Howard's arms in a panic.

"Vince! Vince – no. It's all right. Calm down - calm down."

"Please don't! Please don't make me! They'll put me away for what I did! They'll take me away from you Howard! I won't go! I won't! Y-you think I'm crazy!"

Hysterical, Vince yanked himself out of Howard's grasp harshly and stood on shaky legs, tripping as he moved forward.

Howard was up in a heartbeat, and he took Vince by the shoulders and held him still.

"Vince, please! No one is going to take you away from me, okay? They're there to help you, not put you away. You just need someone to talk to -"

"I've got you!"

" - someone professional. No one on this earth is going to take you away from me, Vince. I'd never let them. And I don't think you're crazy – how could you even think that?"

Vince reddened with guilt when he saw the look of hurt on Howard's face. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, eyes focusing down on the floor.

"Hey." Howard put a finger under Vince's chin and gently lifted his head. "Don't be. C'mere." He pulled Vince into another hug.

They stood in silence for about thirty seconds, until Vince heaved a shuddering sigh and sniffed loudly.

"Your parents are nice. I used to love going to yours for dinner after school. Did they really like me?"

Howard gave a small chuckle, despite himself. "Are you kidding? They loved you. More than me, I think."

Vince returned the laugh, as choked as it sounded. "I haven't seen them for... well, years."

"Yeah, it's been a while for me too, 'specially since they moved back to Leeds."

"We should go visit them," Vince said, voice muffled against Howard's neck.

"We?"

"Yeah. That all right?"

"Of course it is."

Vince pulled back a little so he could see Howard's face. "I'll go talk to someone, if you think it'll help."

"I really do."

Vince chewed on his lip for a moment, seemingly pondering something.

"Okay?" Howard asked, suddenly wary again.

"Yeah, I – thank you. Don't know what I'd do without you.

Howard smiled, his first genuine smile of the day, and dropped a kiss on Vince's head.

"Howard?"

"Hmm?"

"I..." Vince tilted his head up and pressed a gentle kiss to Howard's lips.

Howard's eyes widened, and it took a second for it to register before he pulled back.

"Vince -"

"Oh, God! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Howard. Shit." Vince turned round and put his head in his hands, cheeks burning angrily.

"No, Vince. I want – I mean, I don't think now is... no, wait. I mean, God, yes, I do - I mean, I want too..." Howard was getting flustered, he knew, and he had to pull himself together before he scared Vince away. He gently turned him round to face him and looked at him as sincerely as he could, smiling tenderly at his red-faced friend. "What I meant to say, is that yes – I want it too, I really do, but -"

"Really?" Vince smiled, and Howard thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Honestly, yes – more than anything. But first -"

"We need to get me sorted out."

"Yeah. I want to concentrate on you, for now, and then us. That okay?"

Vince nodded. "Yeah, definitely." Then his face fell, and his eyes misted over.

"Vince?"

"I'm sorry, it's not you, it's... well, I saw them, and what if I see them again? I can't do this again. What if they've moved to the area? What if -"

"Shhh." Howard put a finger over Vince's lips. "There are millions of people in London. They were probably just having a day out. But, if you ever do see them again, then we'll deal with it, all right? You're not on your own now – you don't have to be afraid anymore."

Vince curled into Howard arms and yawned widely.

"Tired?"

"Mmm."

"Bed, then."

Vince fidgeted. "Howard, will you stay with me? I don't mean, you know, just..." he sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"Vince, I know what you mean. Of course I'll stay with you."

"Thanks, Howard."

Howard ran a hand down Vince's cheek, and then helped him to bed. Getting through this would be tough, but he swore he would never leave Vince's side. He couldn't even begin to wonder what it was like to have your parents reject you. For Vince, Howard was heartbroken, but he'd never stop looking after him, and he'd never, ever let him feel unloved again.

Ever.


End file.
